The Banker-s Secret Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEE FFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOO PPQQRRFFSSTTUUVVWWKK XXYYZZXXA2A2B2B2XXXX XXC2C2PPXXD2D2FFE2E2 VVYYFFF2F2XX G2G2VVG2G2XXXXG2G2FG 2XXC2G2E2HXXOOHHH2H2 PPXXG2G2C2C2XXXXPP PPG2G2C2C2XXXX G2G2G2FFG2G2EEC2C2FF PPG2G2XXE G2G2C2C2XXFFOOG2G2PP FFG2

THE Banker's dinner is the stateliest feastA
The town has heard of for a year at leastA
The sparry lustres shed their broadest blazeB
Damask and silver catch and spread the raysB
The florist's triumphs crown the daintier spoilC
Won from the sea the forest or the soilC
The steaming hot house yields its largest pinesD
The sunless vaults unearth their oldest winesD
With one admiring look the scene surveyE
And turn a moment from the bright displayE
-
Of all the joys of earthly pride or powerF
What gives most life worth living in an hourF
When Victory settles on the doubtful fightG
And the last foeman wheels in panting flightG
No thrill like this is felt beneath the sunH
Life's sovereign moment is a battle wonH
But say what next To shape a Senate's choiceI
By the strong magic of the master's voiceI
To ride the stormy tempest of debateJ
That whirls the wavering fortunes of the stateJ
Third in the list the happy lover's prizeK
Is won by honeyed words from women's eyesK
If some would have it first instead of thirdL
So let it be I answer not a wordL
The fourth sweet readers let the thoughtless halfM
Have its small shrug and inoffensive laughM
Let the grave quarter wear its virtuous frownN
The stern half quarter try to scowl us downN
But the last eighth the choice and sifted fewO
Will hear my words and pleased confess them trueO
-
Among the great whom Heaven has made to shineP
How few have learned the art of arts to dineP
Nature indulgent to our daily needQ
Kind hearted mother taught us all to feedQ
But the chief art how rarely Nature flingsR
This choicest gift among her social kingsR
Say man of truth has life a brighter hourF
Than waits the chosen guest who knows his powerF
He moves with ease itself an angel charmS
Lifts with light touch my lady's jewelled armS
Slides to his seat half leading and half ledT
Smiling but quiet till the grace is saidT
Then gently kindles while by slow degreesU
Creep softly out the little arts that pleaseU
Bright looks the cheerful language of the eyeV
The neat crisp question and the gay replyV
Talk light and airy such as well may passW
Between the rested fork and lifted glassW
With play like this the earlier evening fliesK
Till rustling silks proclaim the ladies riseK
His hour has come he looks along the chairsX
As the Great Duke surveyed his iron squaresX
That's the young traveller is n't much to showY
Fast on the road but at the table slowY
Next him you see the author in his lookZ
His forehead lined with wrinkles like a bookZ
Wrote the great history of the ancient HunsX
Holds back to fire among the heavy gunsX
Oh there's our poet seated at his sideA2
Beloved of ladies soft cerulean eyedA2
Poets are prosy in their common talkB2
As the fast trotters for the most part walkB2
And there's our well dressed gentleman who sitsX
By right divine no doubt among the witsX
Who airs his tailor's patterns when he walksX
The man that often speaks but never talksX
Why should he talk whose presence lends a graceX
To every table where he shows his faceX
He knows the manual of the silver forkC2
Can name his claret if he sees the corkC2
Remark that 'White top' was considered fineP
But swear the 'Juno' is the better wineP
Is not this talking Ask Quintilian's rulesX
If they say No the town has many foolsX
Pause for a moment for our eyes beholdD2
The plain unsceptred king the man of goldD2
The thrice illustrious threefold millionnaireF
Mark his slow creeping dead metallic stareF
His eyes dull glimmering like the balance panE2
That weighs its guinea as he weighs his manE2
Who's next An artist in a satin tieV
Whose ample folds defeat the curious eyeV
And there 's the cousin must be asked you knowY
Looks like a spinster at a baby showY
Hope he is cool they set him next the doorF
And likes his place between the gap and boreF
Next comes a Congressman distinguished guestF2
We don't count him they asked him with the restF2
And then some white cravats with well shaped tiesX
And heads above them which their owners prizeX
-
Of all that cluster round the genial boardG2
Not one so radiant as the banquet's lordG2
Some say they fancy but they know not whyV
A shade of trouble brooding in his eyeV
Nothing perhaps the rooms are overhotG2
Yet see his cheek the dull red burning spotG2
Taste the brown sherry which he does not passX
Ha That is brandy see him fill his glassX
But not forgetful of his feasting friendsX
To each in turn some lively word he sendsX
See how he throws his baited lines aboutG2
And plays his men as anglers play their troutG2
A question drops among the listening crewF
And hits the traveller pat on TimbuctooG2
We're on the Niger somewhere near its sourceX
Not the least hurry take the river's courseX
Through Kissi Foota Kankan BammakooC2
Bambarra Sego so to TimbuctooG2
Thence down to Youri stop him if we canE2
We can't fare worse wake up the CongressmanH
The Congressman once on his talking legsX
Stirs up his knowledge to its thickest dregsX
Tremendous draught for dining men to quaffO
Nothing will choke him but a purpling laughO
A word a shout a mighty roar 't is doneH
Extinguished lassoed by a treacherous punH
A laugh is priming to the loaded soulH2
The scattering shots become a steady rollH2
Broke by sharp cracks that run along the lineP
The light artillery of the talker's wineP
The kindling goblets flame with golden dewsX
The hoarded flasks their tawny fire diffuseX
And the Rhine's breast milk gushes cold and brightG2
Pale as the moon and maddening as her lightG2
With crimson juice the thirsty southern skyC2
Sucks from the hills where buried armies lieC2
So that the dreamy passion it impartsX
Is drawn from heroes' bones and lovers' heartsX
But lulls will come the flashing soul transmitsX
Its gleams of light in alternating fitsX
The shower of talk that rattled down amainP
Ends in small patterings like an April's rainP
-
With the dry sticks all bonfires are begunP
Bring the first fagot proser number oneP
The voices halt the game is at a standG2
Now for a solo from the master handG2
'T is but a story quite a simple thingC2
An aria touched upon a single stringC2
But every accent comes with such a graceX
The stupid servants listen in their placeX
Each with his waiter in his lifted handsX
Still as a well bred pointer when he standsX
A query checks him 'Is he quite exact '-
This from a grizzled square jawed man of factG2
The sparkling story leaves him to his fateG2
Crushed by a witness smothered with a dateG2
As a swift river sown with many a starF
Runs brighter rippling on a shallow barF
The smooth divine suggests a graver doubtG2
A neat quotation bowls the parson outG2
Then sliding gayly from his own displayE
He laughs the learned dulness all awayE
So with the merry tale and jovial songC2
The jocund evening whirls itself alongC2
Till the last chorus shrieks its loud encoreF
And the white neckcloths vanish through the doorF
-
One savage word The menials know its toneP
And slink away the master stands aloneP
'Well played by ' breathe not what were best unheardG2
His goblet shivers while he speaks the wordG2
'If wine tells truth and so have said the wiseX
It makes me laugh to think how brandy liesX
Bankrupt to morrow millionnaire to dayE
The farce is over now begins the play '-
The spring he touches lets a panel glideG2
An iron closet harks beneath the slideG2
Bright with such treasures as a search might bringC2
From the deep pockets of a truant kingC2
Two diamonds eyeballs of a god of bronzeX
Bought from his faithful priest a pious bonzeX
A string of brilliants rubies three or fourF
Bags of old coin and bars of virgin oreF
A jewelled poniard and a Turkish knifeO
Noiseless and useful if we come to strifeO
Gone As a pirate flies before the windG2
And not one tear for all he leaves behindG2
From all the love his better years have knownP
Fled like a felon ah but not aloneP
The chariot flashes through a lantern's glareF
Oh the wild eyes the storm of sable hairF
Still toG2

Oliver Wendell Holmes



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